Centon Short Story Series: I Won't Tell 'Em Your Name
by Punk Drunk Love
Summary: Taking a break from the ring after filing for divorce, John finds solace in The Orton home. John soon finds himself wrestling with inner problems when romantic feelings for Randy surface. Confused and conflicted, John seeks out old flames in an attempt to deny his love for his longtime friend and fellow roster member.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is a re-post of a short story I wrote last year. Ironically, it features Randy Orton happily married to Sam and mid-way through the original posting of the story, it was announced in real life that Randy and Sam had divorced. Since the announcement, I was not able to get past a certain point with this story, even after writing a re-imagining of it, so I have decided to post it as a complete **short** story. It is a primarily Centon pairing with some male/female moments and I have rated it M for some adult content in later chapters.

I don't claim to own any rights to WWE or its affiliates. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

1:

"_My name...is Randy Orton."_

The audience roared from the TV through my surround-sound speakers. Fans loved it when Randy re-introduced himself almost every Friday night. I found it oddly hysterical.

"You look kinda lame on my flat screen. Your face is all oval and you look like a meathead," I told Randy on my cell phone while I sat back and continued to watch the pre-recorded episode of Smackdown.

"What do you know, Cena? You look like Frankenstein with that ugly box-head of yours on my TV!" Randy chuckled.

"I do have a box-head," I agreed, making Randy laugh out loud.

"So, where are you gonna be?" Randy asked about my schedule.

I had recently given my wife, Elizabeth, divorce papers. It was no secret, but what the fans didn't know was that McMahon was trying to give me some downtime so I could attend any legal meetings and deal with personal issues. I didn't really want to spend time away from WWE, but I had no choice. McMahon even ordered mandatory counseling sessions to make sure I wasn't holding everything in.

What he didn't understand was that Elizabeth and I were over a long time ago. The decision was difficult, but not something I really felt devastated about. I loved Elizabeth, but I wasn't _in love_ with her, anymore. What I didn't want anyone to know was that I was deeply attracted to my best friend and the only confidant I really had both on the road and while I was stationed at home: Randal Keith Orton.

The connection between us was not instant. In fact, we hated each other when we first started out. When I heard he got contracted to WWE while we were still in OVW, I was glad not to have to deal with him for a while. As far as I was concerned, Randy Orton was a Grade A-Asshole, and he only got worse when he started hanging out with Dave Bautista.

Randy and I were basically opposites. He was the bad boy; the perfect villain to my superhero ways. We fought for years. He trashed my stuff; I hoped to God he'd get fired. He'd try to put me on the injured list; I'd rig his trailer so he wouldn't get to the next arena on time. I thought Samantha would be his balance, but he continued to wreck himself until after their daughter was born.

He remodeled himself to be her knight in shining armor. The more time I spent with him, the more I saw a side of Randy that I didn't know was there. We started bonding once new roster members began appearing and our generation of members began dwindling. I saw his working marriage to Sam and I wanted the same for Elizabeth and I. He gave me advice and he seemed to want it to work for me the way it did for him. The more time I spent with him, the harder it got to spend time away from him. When he was traded to Smackdown, we had less time to spend together, and late night cell phone calls were about the only source of contact.

I didn't know I had it bad for him until after Wrestlemania. The Rock beat me and I was suddenly faced with a huge problem: McMahon wanted me to face Brock Lesnar, an easy fan favorite, immediately after losing to an icon. I could easily see the ten-year reputation I had built going down the drain in a matter of weeks. The fans would not want me to beat recent legends that had achieved god-like status during the beloved Attitude Era. I was after the Attitude; I was meant for kids and war heroes. I would be ruined before I had a chance to redeem myself.

Facing Brock Lesnar was brutal in more ways than one. Although my fans stayed true, the WWE Universe was divided about whom they should really be rooting for: the god-like legends that were amazing to watch but only showed up 3 weeks out of the year, or the guy they loved to hate that showed up every damn week. I began losing more matches in a row than I had experienced in years. Outside of the ring, I could sense my own personality changing. The only person who seemed to understand what I was going through was Randy, and I knew a lot of my trouble was coming from the need to tell him how I felt.

But he's married. To a wonderful woman. With a daughter. He has a life that I'm not a good fit for. I had no idea how he'd even react. He might slam the door in my face and never talk to me, again. Even if he felt the same, I didn't want him to cheat on Sam with me. It was wrong, and I knew that.

Yet my downward spiral continued. I found myself thinking about him more often in my spare time. I heard about his suspension and I wanted to go down to St. Louis and see him. I thought maybe seeing him more frequently would give me enough closeness not to want him so badly.

I'd seen enough movies to know that just being near someone all the time doesn't cure the itch.

"I don't know where I'll be. What are you doin'? I'll come down and stay at your place. We can make fun of our oddly shaped heads in person," I joked.

"Don't come all the way down here! It's hot and humid and there's a fucking tornado watch until the end of October!" he shot back.

I laughed out loud and he added more seriously, "You have enough shit to deal with. Don't pack your bags and drop down for me. I suck at keeping guests and Sam says some of our friends fall asleep listening to my monotone voice."

"What? Your voice is sexy!" I blurted out.

There was a moment of silence from the other end, then Randy chuckled like he thought I was just joking. I tried to laugh it off as well, but it was so awkward that I finally said, "Look, I gotta go. I'll talk to you tomorrow, though."

"You're wasting my not-unlimited-unlimited cell phone plan with your long-ass calls, Cena," Randy joked dryly.

"Then buy some more minutes! I have things that need to be said!" I countered.

"Whatever," Randy said, hanging up on me before I could argue with him some more.

I turned off my phone for the night and quietly went back upstairs. The house was dark besides the moonlight coming in through the windows and I was so rarely home that the layout was almost foreign to me. Liz had taken care of everything while I was gone, but she had put so many things where I didn't want them that I kept banging into stuff and ruining my attempts to be silent.

I peeked into the master bedroom and saw her lying on her side. I stood there and watched her sleep for a long while, debating whether I should join her in bed or not. I knew if I did, she'd wake up and want to talk about things some more, which would lead to arguing, which would lead to a huge fight, which would lead to angry sex, which would lead to her thinking I was still interested, which would lead to a repeat of the same cycle.

Even if I left her alone, angry sex was inevitable. We'd already gone through the cycle three times in the last twenty-four hours.

I was angry and I needed some time to think. I decided to leave Elizabeth alone and I went back downstairs to sleep on the couch. As soon as my head hit the armrest, I was out.

The sound of the front door chime woke me out of a dead sleep. I sat up and squinted at the sun shone brightly in my eyes. The chime went off again and then someone knocked. Elizabeth yelled from upstairs, "Coming!"

"I got it, Liz!" I called back to her, walking out to the main hall.

The silhouettes in the windows by the door frame showed uniforms. Definitely police, from what I could make out. I immediately opened the door and addressed both men by their name tags, asking seriously, "Is there a problem?"

"Are you John Cena?" the taller officer with the name tag Bradley asked as if he already knew the answer.

"Yes, sir," I nodded.

The other officer, a young one with the name tag Marvin, made a wry smile. I figured he was probably a wrestling fan but not a fan of my work in particular, so it brought him joy to be confronting me, something he would probably post to his friends on Twitter right after our conversation.

Bradley cleared his throat and told me, "Mr. Cena, we are here to place you under arrest."

"Arrest? For what, sir?" I was bewildered.

"What?!" Liz cried from the top of the stairs where she had been listening.

Bradley opened his mouth to explain, but Marvin cut him off by stating to me, "You're under arrest for murdering The Viper, Randy Orton, you asshole!"

I was numb with shock. Marvin lunged at me and tried to knock me to the floor while Bradley attempted to stop him and Liz came rushing down the stairs. Everything was happening so fast, I couldn't breathe.

_Randy was dead. And they thought I did it._

"John?" I heard a woman's voice whisper to me.

I slowly opened my eyes. The dream was so vivid, every detail stuck with me even as I blinked a few times and saw Liz standing over the back of the couch looking down on me. She was in the pink silk robe I bought her for Christmas just after I started working for WWE. It made her appear younger and for a moment I thought I was reliving the past.

"Are you all right? You look pale," she reached down to put her hand on my cheek.

"Please don't touch me right now," I pushed her hand away and sat up to catch my breath.

"John, what's wrong? You're all sweaty and you look sick," she asked with concern.

"I'm fine," I got up and went to find my cell phone.

I had put it down last night and I tried to remember where. I found it on the table by the stairwell and I saw that I had a few dozen texts. I checked it and saw that some were from Randy. I compared it to the current time on my cell and saw that his last text was sent only a few minutes ago.

"He's not dead," I sighed with relief.

"Dead? Why would anyone be dead?" Liz asked from behind me.

I turned to face her and barked, "No one! Would you please stop haunting me like a damn ghost!"

I took the phone with me as I made my way upstairs. Liz folded her arms and asked, "Where are you going?"

"I'm taking a shower and then I'm packing. McMahon wants to see me," I lied.

She started to argue with me, "John, you are not leaving this house until-"

I slammed the bedroom door before she could finish. I knew she wasn't going to let me off that easy, but I had more important things on my mind to worry about.

I was going to see Randy. I believed without a doubt the dream was telling me to be completely honest with him. That had to be what it meant. There was no other explanation. I knew I wouldn't ever kill Randy Orton and I'd never been a believer in precognition, so it was a symbolic dream. I was going to talk to him now, and if Elizabeth tried to stop me, I'd just have to find a way around her.

There was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I couldn't quite shake. The dream was so detailed. Even the names of the officers were so clear. I kept trying to push it out of my mind, but Bradley and Marvin just kept coming up.

I'll Google the names later for fun just to see if they're really with the local police department. I made a mental note of it and went back to my first intention.

I needed to see Randy. I knew that for sure. What became of it would be out of my hands.


	2. Chapter 2

2:

"John? John!"

Randy came outside on the porch and pulled me into a hug. It was late and I felt kind of guilty for trying to surprise him at this hour, but he didn't seem the least bit upset.

"What brings you down here? Trouble at home?" he gave me a knowing look.

I shook my head and replied, "I just wanted to come down and spend some time with you. We need to talk-"

"John Ceeennnnaaa!" I heard Alanna squeal from just inside.

She came rushing out and grabbed hold of my leg, which looked like a tree trunk compared to her. I laughed and asked her, "How are you, darlin'?"

Alanna looked up at me and smiled as bright as the sunrise. Randy said with a chuckle, "She wanted that Wrestlemania picture of you and The Rock on her wall. She likes the blue and red colors around you two."

"Come see! Come see!" Alanna rushed back into the house.

Randy moved aside to let me follow Alanna. I told him as I went by, "I'll stay a while and check into a hotel. I don't want to bother you during family time."

"Don't say that! We have a whole finished basement with everything you need and it's free! Well...mostly free."

I gave him a sideways glance and he added, "Alanna likes to play Barbies down there. You might have to be Ken for a couple of days."

"Ah, geez," I grimaced, making Randy laugh.

"John!" Samantha came out of the kitchen to greet me with open arms.

Her tiny frame was practically engulfed in my big arms. She smelled like rose water and something I couldn't quite place, but it was nice. When she pulled away, I noticed Sam had the same bright sunrise smile as Alanna.

"She's in her room just down the hall. I think she wants to show you her collections," Sam gestured with widened eyes.

"That's great, I'm glad my best friend's daughter is such a hardcore fan," I laughed.

Randy scooped Samantha into his arms and I turned away just as they were about to kiss. I tried hard to hold down my own nervous tension as I walked down the hallway to find Alanna.

Her room was painted bright pink and full of trinkets ranging from My Little Ponies to a Sheamus action figure with his legs stuck in a Hungry Hungry Hippos' mouth. My action figure was staring right back at me from a mint green shelf attached to the far wall. Randy's action figure was also there, standing tall and sort of bearing down on my figure.

_Randy probably posed us that way._

Alanna was busy putting together a tea set in one corner of the room. Just above her was the picture of The Rock and I just as Randy had described. I noticed a small notch in Dwayne's nose when I took a closer look and asked, "Did your picture get scratched, Alanna?"

She looked up like she had forgotten all about the picture until I mentioned it. With a heavy frown of disapproval just like her father would make, Alanna told me like it was public knowledge, "Dat Rock is a bad man!"

I chuckled but Alanna remained totally serious. She stuck her index finger in his face and argued, "He beat you up at the big wrestling show! It's not nice!"

Alanna poked his face a couple of times and went back to her tea set like the drama had suddenly passed. I watched her work tediously to put all the cups in their respective places, positioning the stirring spoons parallel to the cups and the tea pot squarely in the center. When she finished, she called out, "Mommmmmmyyyy! Daaaaaadyyyyy!"

Randy and Sam walked in a few seconds later, laughing quietly like they had just finished an inside joke. Alanna informed them as soon as they entered, "I have a set for four and now I have four people! Tea for everyone!"

She carefully took the tea pot and poured the invisible liquid into each cup, then handed it off to us one-by-one. My sausage fingers wouldn't grip the damn handle to save my life, so I just placed it in the crook of my palm and I noticed Randy did the same. We all pretended to drink our fill and Alanna was completely entertained for about fifteen minutes.

"Bye!" she got up and rushed out of the room like she had somewhere to be.

"I'll take your cups," Sam grabbed Randy's and then took mine with a smile.

"Thanks for humoring her," Randy mentioned.

With a shrug I replied, "No problem. I don't think you should invite Dwayne for tea anytime soon, though."

Randy gave me a curious look and I pointed at the Wrestlemania picture. He busted out laughing and Sam left the room to find Alanna. I wanted to say something as soon as Randy stopped laughing, but we were caught in a moment of awkward silence and I suddenly forgot what I wanted to say.

"So, uh...what brings you here? Did I ask you that already?" Randy half-smiled.

God, he looked handsome. His normally deep bronzed skin had gotten a shade darker since he had been home and spending more time out in the sun. His beard had also gotten thicker and that only turned me on even more.

"John? You're kinda freakin' me out, man. What's going on?" he pulled me out of my thoughts.

I made a quick glance around the room as I breathed a deep sigh. It was obvious that a lot of adoration had gone into every part of his child's bedroom. Tears threatened to fill my eyes as I realized I had made a very stupid mistake.

"I should...I should go," I muttered.

Randy could see that something was wrong, but he misunderstood why. He argued with me, "Hey, man, I've worked with your for almost a decade. We've been on the road together. We've shared a locker room together. You even farted once in my truck and it smelled like hell but I survived and that means something."

He was trying to get me to ease up, but I couldn't bring myself to laugh. Randy took a step closer to me and said more quietly, "Look, it's late, and taking the red-eye back to Mass is just plain stupid. Stay here the night and we'll pick this up tomorrow. If you wanna get the fuck out of here, wait until after breakfast. Alanna and Sam are making blueberry pancakes."

Randy knew that was my favorite. The tears threatened to blur my vision once more, but I was able to push them away long enough to reply, "Thank you, Randy."

"That's what friends are for, right?" he put his arm around my shoulders and tried to get me into a headlock.

"Get off, Viper!" I playfully elbowed him in the ribs.

He gave me the same kind of glare he would make in the ring and stated in-character tone, "You'll get what's coming to you, Cena. I guarantee it."

I waved my hand in front of my face and replied in-character, "You can't C me!"

He tried to slap my hand away and his fingernail accidentally caught the edge of my right eye. I shouted, "Ow!" and rubbed the pain away.

"Shit! Sorry," he lifted my chin with his fingers to inspect my eye more closely, adding, "You all right?"

His lips were only an inch from mine. His eyes were like a soft mossy green sprinkled with hints of blue. His breath smelled stinky like beer, but I couldn't care less.

I wanted to kiss him. Really. Bad.

"Your eye's a little red but it looks fine," he let go of my chin and started to walk out of the room.

"Randy?" I blurted.

"Yeah?" he stopped to turn back and face me.

_Say it, John. Just say it._

"Thanks for having me," I told him.

"I hate that saying. It sounds like we're going to eat you for dinner or something," he rolled his eyes and walked out of the room.

I let my head hang as I whispered to myself, "If _you_ wanted to eat me, I don't think I'd mind."


	3. Chapter 3

3:

_I was walking through Randy's house, but it was much bigger and appeared to have thousands of rooms. It was the middle of the night and everything was dark except for certain doors lit up by some unknown source. I seemed to know where I was going despite not being able to see well, and I even knew what was on the other side of some of the doors without having to open them._

_I reached a bright blue door towards the end of a long hallway. I stood outside of it, knowing that Liz was on the other side waiting for me. I knew she wanted to have sex, and although I didn't want to, I knew that I had no choice. I was still her husband, and I had taken a vow to have and to hold her until the moment our divorce was final. It may not mean much to most men, but I was not most men, and loyalty was important to me._

_The sound of a woman moaning suddenly made me look away. I saw a door at the very end of the hallway and made my way towards it. The door was lit up bright purple and I knew the woman moaning was on the other side. Curiosity got the best of me and I wanted to know what was happening to make her moan with pleasure like that._

_I reached for the knob, but it was difficult to turn. The door itself felt jammed, like one that had swollen shut after a hot afternoon. I was strong, but it took me an astonishing amount of effort to finally get the door open._

_I stepped inside and saw that the moaning woman was Sam. She was naked underneath Randy and they were right in the middle of making love. Randy also seemed to be naked, but I couldn't see him as well as Sam. Her body was surprisingly my type and I couldn't help being turned on as I continued to watch her enjoy herself._

_The Randy that was with her was not the one I knew. He was always reckless; an asshole bad-boy with a tendency to self-sabotage. Although he had cleaned up for his daughter, Randy was not the soft and sweet kind of guy. Yet, as I watched him with Sam, I saw a more affectionate Randy. He made slow, grinding thrusts while he stared into Sam's eyes like she was the only other person in the world; exploring her body with his hands and kissing her like he feared he would somehow lose her._

_They didn't seem to know I was there. I felt no guilt or shame watching them. I felt little emotion at all. Only a sense of excitement from my groin as my brain failed to remind me that I was being a sick perv. _

_I suddenly realized what I would be destroying by telling Randy how I felt. What was being shown to me was that he obviously loved and adored his wife, and even if he were to send me on my way, the knowledge of my affections could have unintended consequences._

_Randy stopped thrusting as he made a climactic groan. He frowned at Sam and said, "Sorry, Baby, I meant to hang on a little longer."_

"_It's not a problem," she smiled, turning to look at me._

_Randy did as well. Neither seemed upset that I was there, but stared at me like I was expected. With a wry smile, Randy asked me, "You're hard John, why don't you step in and help my wife?"_

_I felt a rush of intense surprise and exhilaration as Sam reached out to me and said, "John?"_

_She called my name as if it were a question and not a suggestion to come closer. I became confused as I heard her say again, "John?"_

I opened my eyes and saw Sam standing over me. She was holding my cell phone in her hand as she explained with a bright smile, "I'm sorry to bother you, but you left your phone upstairs and it's been ringing non-stop for the past ten minutes."

"Oh geez, I'm sorry," I glanced at the clock and saw that it was outrageously early.

I sat up and pulled the covers off. I realized too late that I had a morning erection pointing through the opening of my boxers and Sam gave it a quick glance as she blushed and said quietly, "I really feel bad for bothering you."

"It's no problem, really," I pulled the covers back up and tried not to look as dumb as I felt.

She handed me the cell phone just as it started to ring again. The name LIZ popped up on the screen and I asked Sam before answering it, "Is she the one who's been calling this whole time?"

"I only saw her name on the screen when I picked the phone up to bring it down to you. I'm not sure if it's always been her," Sam shrugged.

"Thank you, Sam, I appreciate it," I gave her my winning smile.

She returned it with a smile of her own and left the room. I went ahead and answered Liz but told her before she could say a word to me, "It's really fucking early, Babe."

"I just want to know where you are, John," Liz spoke softly like she had been crying.

One thing I hated the most was seeing her cry. Knowing that I was the one who caused it made me feel even more lousy. Good-bye morning erection.

"Look, Darlin', I'm fine. I don't know why you're getting all worked up about me," I started.

She countered angrily, "What am I supposed to do?! You left almost a day ago and you haven't even called to tell me if you're still alive!"

"Liz, you know I'd find a way to call you from beyond the grave. I know how mad you get and Lucifer himself knows well enough to spare my soul one phone call to escape your wrath," I teased.

I meant it to be mostly a joke, but Liz didn't laugh. I heard her stifle a scream in the background, then she came back to the phone and tried to ask calmly, "Where are you?"

"I'm out clearing my head. Give me a few days and I'll come right back to you," I said it more to ease her suffering than to be the honest truth.

"How will I know you're all right?" she pleaded.

"I'll text you every day," I said.

"Why can't you call?" she replied.

"I'm busy," I stated.

"What if there's an emergency-" she started.

I knew a fight would be inevitable if I didn't hang up now. I told her quickly, "Just call my mom and dad if you need help or call my brothers if my parents need help. 'Kay, love ya, bye."

I waited after I hit end to see if Liz would try to call again. She didn't, but she probably knew I wouldn't answer at this point. I decided to turn my phone off and hid it in the drawer of the bedside table. I wanted a few days away and I intended to get at least some of that time to myself.

* * *

I was still tired, but I was used to waking up super early so I decided to shower and dress and come up to see if Randy was awake. I came into the living room and I saw him sitting on the couch watching TV. I didn't bother to see what he was watching as I went around to look at him and found Alanna in his lap.

"JOHN CENA!" Alanna squealed as she hopped off of Randy and rushed over to hug my leg.

She always announced my name like it was the most exciting set of two words on the planet. I couldn't help laughing as Alanna fit my pinkie into the entire mass of her right hand and pulled me over to the couch. Randy gave me a wry smile and teased, "What are you doin' up here? I didn't tell you you could leave the basement."

"Daddy, be nice!" Alanna warned him, so Randy put up his hands in defeat.

I sat down a short way from Randy and Alanna wedged herself between us. She looked like a tiny doll between two giants. I looked up at the TV and recognized the show as I mentioned, "Oh yeah, Mickey's Club House."

"Disney channel has all the best shi...stuff," Randy corrected himself before Alanna picked up on it.

"Donald Duck reminds me of you," I pointed out.

Randy snorted with gruff reply, "Alanna keeps saying I look and talk just like Hades."

"From the Hercules movie? Yeah, I guess you do," I realized.

"You can be Hercules!" Alanna informed me as if we were assigning characters.

Randy's eyes went wide as he argued, "What?! No way he gets to be the hero! He can be one of the dwarfs in Snow White! Or Quasimodo!"

I laughed as Alanna turned to Randy and explained like it was common knowledge, "Daddy, everyone knows the ugly boys in the movie get to talk to pretty girls because it's not about looks!"

"You're right, Baby," he told her, then he whispered to me, "She heard that from her mother."

Alanna got down off the couch and took off for the kitchen. Randy shouted after her, "Where are you going?"

"Breakfast!" she sang before disappearing out of sight.

"Shouldn't a four-year-old be monitored at all times?" I asked with some concern.

Randy answered with a shrug, "She'll find some cereal now and when Sam gets up later we'll do blueberry pancakes like I promised you."

He cast me a sideways glance like he wanted me to know he hadn't forgotten. I replied simply, "If Sam doesn't want to go through the trouble, it's cool."

"We have a pancake maker. It's not rocket science, Cena," Randy countered.

I sighed and asked, "Did Sam go back to sleep? She brought my cell down to me a while ago."

"I want to let her sleep now that I'm here to take care of the munckin," Randy told me, adding quickly, "So what were you doing showing my wife your Big Happy?"

My face went ten shades of red as I blurted, "She told you that?!"

"It's fucking true?!" Randy was equally shocked.

"Daddy! I'm gonna tell Mommy you cursed!" Alanna yelled from the kitchen.

Randy looked over the couch to make sure she wasn't overhearing us before yelling back, "I'm sorry, baby! Daddy will put a dollar in the Curse Jar when he goes to the kitchen!"

"The Curse Jar?" I lifted a brow at him.

"It's for my dirty mouth. That thing could pay for a new car since Sam started it two months ago," Randy frowned.

I snorted laughter and Randy glared at me as he seethed, "So did you flash my wife, shithead?"

"I didn't mean to. She woke me up and I was sitting up to take my cell phone from her and there it was," I made the DX sign at my crotch as an inside joke.

Randy caught it and chuckled, but went straight faced again as he replied, "Well next time, keep it under the hood. I don't need you traumatizing my girl into asking me why your tiny pecker is nothing compared to my massive bong."

He ran his hands up and down for emphasis and I shot back, "Oh come one! You're perfectly sized but not massive!"

My words came out completely wrong. Randy and I both stopped laughing and we just stared at each other for a few seconds in awkward silence. I braced myself for Randy to make the kind of reaction guys did in the locker room when something came out kind of gay: he would call me a fag and leave like I sickened him.

_God, please don't do that to me._

When Randy finally spoke, his voice was calm and thick as he asked, "You think I'm the perfect size?"

He sounded like he was both surprised and pleased by the thought of it. I struggled to nod but I had no idea how to reply. He stared at me a moment longer and opened his mouth to say something else, but Alanna came rushing back into the room and the moment was cut short.

"Daddy, I made mud brownies!" Alanna shouted, holding up two clods of dirt in her hands.

"Oh, shit," Randy stated.

"DADDY, YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO CURSE!" Alanna screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

4:

"Yeah, Dad. Yeah, I understand...I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. Thanks, Dad. Bye."

Randy started laughing as soon as I hung up. I lifted a brow at him and asked, "What?"

"Why didn't you just tell him you were with me? Why make up some bullshit story about trekking the Outback?" he could hardly get the words out before he starting laughing again.

"If he knows I'm not doing something productive, he'll come down here and get me. I don't need anymore drama right now," I put my hands up in defeat.

"Daddy, look!" Alanna yelled from outside.

We glanced out the sliding glass doors to the backyard, where Alanna was experimenting with new ways to jump over the water spraying out of an elaborate toy attached to the hose. Sam was sitting on a lawn chair nearby reading a book, showing the patience of a Saint as she looked up every single time Alanna called on her to watch. It had to be at least every five seconds, but Sam didn't get annoyed or put her book down.

"I couldn't do that," I shook my head as I watched Sam go back to reading for the hundred-and-fifth time.

"What? Read?" Randy chuckled at his own joke.

I gave him a sideways glance and moved on, "I meant tending to a child's every need for attention. I love kids, I do, but I don't have the patience for that."

"You learn," Randy informed me, then he added more quietly, "Did you and Liz ever talk about kids?"

With a short shrug, I replied, "Not really. I mean, she was worried about raising one basically on her own and I never saw a good chance to slow down."

"You mean you didn't _want _to slow down," Randy corrected me.

I locked eyes with him and asked honestly, "What did you see when you looked at me and Liz? Did you see baby material there?"

He looked away like he didn't really want to answer me. I added quickly, "Come on, I can take it!"

Randy told me after a long sigh, "It's gonna sound sick, but you and Liz always reminded me of brother and sister, not husband and wife."

I was surprised to hear that. When I didn't argue with him, Randy went on, "I know you two have been one and off since high school, but I never saw the chemistry there. Seems like you went and got famous, and she wanted to be the wife of the hot-shot."

I had never thought of it from that perspective, before. Randy shook his head when he saw the look on my face and he instantly tried to back-track, "Don't listen to me, man. I don't know what I'm saying. I'm not the guy you ask about chicks. Sam was like, my first and only real date and I still can't tell you why she married me!"

He made a face that was so stupid, I busted out laughing. Sam called from outside, "What are you two girls giggling about in there?"

Randy countered with mock girly-shrillness, "We're talking about who's the cutest jock on the roster!"

He batted his eyes at me for emphasis and I laughed, again. Sam called back, "It's Cody Rhodes!"

Randy glared out the glass doors at her but Sam deliberately didn't look up. I added dryly, "She's right, you know. Cody's super-cute and he's available!"

I made this mock grin of approval but Randy refused to laugh as he stated darkly, "I trained that bitch to be both hot and awesome. People should be thanking _me _for his popularity with women!"

"Didn't you just say you're not the guy to ask about chicks?" I remarked smugly.

"I'm on the edge, Cena. Don't push me," Randy pointed his finger at me and warned.

I changed the subject by asking, "You wanna come downstairs and show me how to work the TV?"

"What are you, like, ten?" Randy teased me.

"You've got all these wires and DVRs and surround sound and...I don't know, just help me, dammit!" I waved for him to follow me.

He did, but grumbled loudly all the way down the stairs like it was the last thing _after_ the last thing he wanted to do.

"What is this?" I pulled out a stray wire and tried to poke him with it.

"That's the HD cable. You plug it in here," He nabbed it from me and started fiddling with the back of the DVR.

I leaned in close to observe so I could do it myself if I needed to. Randy fumbled with one of the wires and nervously jerked his arm back, elbowing me right in the eye.

"Ow!" I took a step back and grabbed hold of one of my baby blues.

"Shit, John, why'd you stand so close to me?" Randy pulled my hand away to get a better look at the damage.

I backed up against the wall while Randy assessed the situation. His breath smelled like peppermint and his eyes circled mine for longer than necessary. The damage must've been minimal because he didn't seem too upset. Even after he finished looking, though, we just stared at each other for the longest time in silence, like breaking the trance would somehow make things worse.

"I have to tell you some-" I started.

Randy cut me off when he asked point-blank, "You feel something for me, John Cena?"

I had learned at a young age to face challenges with confidence after being heavily bullied as a kid. The nervousness I once felt inside had dwindled since my body building days when I had to pose in tiny spandex in front of hundreds for pictures that would be shown to thousands. For so long, I had forgotten what it was like to be nervous, but right now, in this moment, I felt it more strongly than I had ever felt it, before.

Randy moved in a little closer. His lips were so close to mine, I could feel his hot breath on my cheeks. He told me thickly, "Answer me, John."

"I...I do," I whispered, feeling an intense wave of shame as I added, "I'm sorry."

I couldn't face him, anymore. I slammed my eyes shut and waited for him to yell at me or punch me or walk off because he had no clue what to do with me.

"Am I the reason you're divorcing Liz?" he surprised me with his soft tone.

I forced myself to open my eyes and look up at him. His face had hardly changed since he asked me if I felt something, but his gray eyes were bloodshot with tears that hadn't fallen, yet. I honestly didn't know how to answer him about Liz, so I replied with the only fact I did know, "We haven't loved each other in a long time."

"That's not what I asked," Randy countered.

I started to shake my head before telling him he wasn't the reason, but inside, I knew I was lying to myself. Randy seemed to know it, too, and before I could get the words out, he pressed his lips to mine in a cautious embrace.

The tip of his tongue forced my lips open, but he went no further. He brushed his fingertips over my cheeks without stopping to hold them. He let out a short groan like he had wondered for a long time what I tasted like and he had finally been satisfied, yet he kept a safe distance like he was aware the situation could easily get out of control.

I could feel from his lips that he had the same feelings for me that I had for him. The only problem was that it was more obvious to him what was at stake if we continued. He suddenly and unceremoniously detached his lips from mine, and I felt my chest burn with a pain so strong I could hardly breathe.

The tears had gone dry from Randy's eyes. He closed them and swallowed hard to gather himself before he opened them again and stared directly at me. He said with all honesty and good intent, "You need to figure this out, John. It won't go away on its own."

He stepped back away from me and turned to leave. I felt anger rise up within me as I argued, "I know that!"

Randy looked back over his shoulder at me and asked sternly, "Do you?"

Even after he was gone, I was still standing there, angry as hell. He always had a way of seeing right inside of me, and he was always right about what was there.

If I couldn't admit it to myself, I'd be stuck in this hell forever.


	5. Chapter 5

5:

_I was dreaming so vividly, I could really feel myself inside of Elizabeth._

_We were going at it after another huge fight. This time, I was being more brutal with her than ever before. She wasn't in pain and only seemed to be getting pleasure from what I was doing to her. I kept thrusting harder and harder, but she just kept her eyes closed and let her head roll back like it was all just a funny game._

"_Don't you feel it?" I shouted at her._

_She made a frustrated laugh like she was still completely angry with me and I began to think she was deliberately pretending not to be in pain so I would continue to hurt her._

"_Elizabeth? Liz?! What the fuck?!" I was trying to get her attention while continuing my destructive pace._

_She wouldn't open her eyes. She wouldn't look at me. I was about to cum._

"Shit!" I woke up just as I climaxed and squirted against the sheets.

I was on my stomach and it was difficult to breathe. I blinked a few times before my eyes adjusted to the room. There was some light coming in from the hallway and it confused me because I thought I had closed the door before I went to sleep.

I suddenly realized that Randy was sitting comfortably wearing only a pair of boxers on the other side of the bed nursing a half-empty beer in his hand.

The blood rushed to my cheeks when I saw his slightly drunk expression conveying that he was still alert enough to know I'd just had a wet dream. He didn't mention it, but pointed out softly, "You were talking in your sleep."

"What did I say?" I asked, feeling even more embarrassed.

"You were moaning and yelling at Elizabeth. It sounded like you were pissed but getting turned on at the same time," he explained.

He took a swig of his beer and waited for me to tell him what the dream was about. I mentioned with a sigh, "We fight so much, even my dreams don't know how to put us any other way."

Randy frowned while he processed my words. The light from the hallway was bouncing off of the perfectly formed muscles on his chest. He was one of the few people I knew who actually had a defined eight pack. His abs were the second part of him I liked the most. His tattoos were third. The first I already accidentally admitted to him the other day.

"Is that what it's like for you? I mean, you try to talk to Liz and she doesn't hear you?" Randy asked carefully.

He sounded like he hadn't considered that I would have trouble communicating with someone. Socializing and diffusing arguments came naturally to me. Even I was surprised how hard it was for me to talk to my own wife.

"It's like we used to know exactly what was on the other's mind. Now, it feels like we're always on two different pages. Whenever we talk, she can't hear me and I can't hear her. It just escalates and then we fight," I said, feeling some relief from being able to explain it to someone out loud.

"Have you tried couples therapy?" Randy asked half-jokingly.

I chuckled and replied softly, "No, and I don't think that would help. Liz just doesn't get me anymore."

"Like I've said before, maybe she just wants to be married to John Cena the celebrity and not John Cena the man," Randy pointed out.

He put the beer bottle to his lips and finished it off. He tossed the empty bottle with a flick of his wrist and it shattered against the far wall. I grunted in protest and stated, "I'm gonna make you clean that up, later."

"It's my house," he argued, then he asked quietly, "So what happens after you and Liz fight?"

I considered not telling him, but I figured there was no reason in hiding it, so I said simply, "I fuck her brains out."

Randy busted out laughing, countering dryly, "Does _she_ know this is how you end it?"

"I'm serious," I said, and he stopped laughing.

He stared at me with twinkling eyes like the mental imagery was both surprising and a bit of a turn-on. I buried my head in the pillow and argued through it, "I hate it when you visualize. It makes me think I look that dumb when I'm horny, too."

I could feel Randy's weight shifting across the bed as he moved over to me. He leaned into my ear and whispered, "Is angry sex really as awesome as people say?"

I turned my head to look up at him. He was so close to me, I could make out the small freckles on his nose and the more pronounced one under his right eye. He was breathing heavily on me and he smelled like booze, but it was still sexy as hell.

"I wouldn't call it awesome. It seems wrong to me in a way, but it's the only thing that relieves stress for both of us and at least we stop fighting for a while," I answered honestly.

Randy scoffed like he would've rather had me tell a more stimulating lie. He sat back against the pillows and asked, "So when's the last time you really had a good fuck?"

I sat up on my arms and slowly moved across to rest my head on Randy's abs. I waited for him to shove me off, but he didn't. His groin smelled like salt from where I was. It gave me the urge to want to taste it.

"I don't know. Probably with Mickie in the backseat of my car after WrestleMania a few years back," I replied.

I felt Randy's abs tighten as he grunted in shock and asked, "You made it with Mickie James? I knew you two went out for like, three-and-a-half seconds while you and Liz were broken up, but damn! You lay 'em out fast, boy!"

He chuckled at his own joke. I laughed too, but more because the memory of being with Mickie popped in my mind and I recalled the moment where I opened my jeans to expose my erection and Mickie shouted excitedly, "I can_ definitely_ see you now!"

We were suddenly quiet, again. I expected Randy to get up and leave, but he stayed where he was, drawing imaginary lines on the back of my head with his fingertips until I started to fall asleep once more.

"Sounds like it's been a long time since you had a good fuck," he said thickly.

"Too long. I've forgotten what it feels like," I whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

6:

I dreamed about Mickie. It wasn't all sexual, but it was exciting enough to keep her on my mind when I woke up the next morning.

Randy was gone. I didn't hear anyone upstairs so I went up to investigate after I showered and dressed. There was a note on the kitchen counter from Sam that said simply:

_Took the kids to the park (Randy loves the slide more than Alanna. _

_The other kids hate it when I bring him with me). _

_Be back in a couple of hours. Take what you want from the fridge. _

_-Love, The Ortons_

I browsed through the fridge but found nothing that would satisfy my need for a massive morning meal. I decided to go out on my own and find a Denny's. I brought my baseball cap and wore dark clothes in hopes that no one would recognize me. I was almost always detected by kids, but they were usually looking out for my purple shirt and not some boring dark blue one with no patterns on it.

St. Louis was full of places to eat and I easily found a Denny's not far from Randy's house. I managed to squeeze myself in a corner surrounded by elderly folks, far away from any kids. It was still early and the place was fairly quiet. I played with my phone and flirted with the waitress while she took my order, then I tried to answer texts from family and friends while I waited for my food. There were over a dozen texts from Liz. I skimmed past them and was disappointed to find that there weren't many others to choose from.

Mickie popped into my mind, again. I took her to Denny's once after a house show and she made the comment that she loved the atmosphere. I still had her cell saved on my phone, but we kept infrequent contact since she started riding with TNA. We joked about her being on the "rival" team, but it was all in good fun. I thought it was great that she finally found a place to be a champion, but I still missed her like hell.

Before I knew it, I found myself sending her a text:

TO: MICKIE J.

LONG TIME NO SPEAK. THINKING OF U. WHERE R U NOW?

I put my cell down just as the waitress brought my meal. Some of the old folks around me raised inquiring brows at one man eating enough to fill four. I just shot them a charming smile and kept my head down, thinking Mickie probably wouldn't answer me until later. I was pleasantly surprised when my cell started chiming and the incoming call was from her.

"Hey you," I answered it with a smile in my voice.

"Hey! Where are you? We're on the road to a show in Tennessee!" she sounded just as happy to hear from me.

There was a split second where a voice in the back of my mind told me not to tell Mickie where I was. I knew the voice was right, but I ignored it anyway.

"I'm in St. Louis, staying at Randy's house for a while," I answered honestly.

"You are?! Oh my God, I'm only a couple of hours away! Would you mind if I stopped by to say hi?" she chirped.

This game wasn't new to me. In the wrestling industry, girls don't change their strict driving schedule just to say hi, and neither do the guys. We're always on the road and serious relationships are rare. Any chance encounters between shows are strictly for much needed sexual release, kind of like a quickie in the middle of your workday. Didn't matter if you struck old partners or tried a new one, it was just the way things worked. No strings; just a good time.

"That sounds great. I haven't seen you in so long. Have you been recording any new songs since last we met?" I asked.

"I'll tell you when I get there. See you in about two hours," Mickie giggled before hanging up.

I should've felt a sense of regret once I hung up the phone, but I didn't. In fact, I felt oddly liberated. By the time I finished breakfast, I had convinced myself that it really was just to catch up on old times.

I was a married man. I had a good reason to abstain from sex.

* * *

"Went to Denny's?" Randy asked as soon as I walked in the door.

He was lounging on the couch watching a random football game while Sam and Alanna were nowhere to be seen. I nodded to answer his question and asked one of my own, "Where are the girls?"

"Sam sent me home. She says I scare the children," he rolled his eyes.

"You are kind of creepy," I mentioned.

He scoffed and added, "Should've brought you. They flip out when John Cena's in town!"

Randy waved his hands in the air in mock excitement. I replied with a snort, "We should've had a match. I could've AA'd you into the Merry-Go-Round and spun you until you threw up."

The mental image of the idea popped into my mind and made me smile. Randy immediately countered, "Why do you always think you'll be the one to win? I could RKO you down the slide and punt your skull into the sandbox."

That made me laugh out loud. I came over to sit down across from him, but he sat up so I could sit right next to him, instead. We watched the game in silence for a while until my phone chimed in my pocket. Randy glanced down at it and asked, "Your ass is ringing."

"I'll just let it go to voicemail," I shrugged.

"What if it's important?" Randy tried to reach around to take my phone out.

"Get off, dickweed!" I shoved him away.

He got mad and tried to tackle me. I shoved him again and we wrestled back-and-forth over the phone, even long after it stopped chiming. I considered myself well-trained in most amateur wrestling themes and we weren't even really being that serious, but Randy was a natural and he was known for throwing out spontaneous moves that worked ridiculously well and he managed to pin me down facing him on the couch after a few minutes of allowing me to think I had the lead.

He grinned like getting the best of me was just too easy. I tried to kick him as I argued, "Get off!"

Randy let go of my right arm, but he instantly reached down to try and grab my phone from my pocket, again. I couldn't believe it had managed to stay in my jeans after everything. I opened my mouth to continue protesting, but I lost my voice when I felt his hand slip into my pocket and his fingers brushed the fabric up against my cock.

I blinked a few times with a mix of surprise and arousal. Randy's expression went from devious to serious as he slowly took my phone out and tossed it on the floor, then he reached his hand back into my pocket and pressed his fingertips against my inner thigh.

We didn't move for what felt like a long time. It didn't matter that Randy wasn't actually touching my groin; he was close enough to inspire the same response. My erection was trying to push through my jeans and it was creating more pain than pleasure, but I didn't dare move and the moment would change.

Randy started to pull his hand out of my pocket. My chest tightened as I felt his touch slipping away. He brought his hand up to the rim of my jeans and curled his fingers under, then he tugged on it to lift the rim up just enough so he could look down and see what was waiting for him.

There was a knock at the door and Randy jerked, punching me right in the groin. I yelped in pain and Randy shouted, "Oh shit, John! I'm sorry!"

The knocking continued and I told him hoarsely, "Go see who it is."

"Sorry! Shit, man, sorry," he was still apologizing as he rushed to his feet and got the door.

"Hi, Randal!" Mickie called from the doorway.

"Hey, what's up?" he pulled her into a hug.

I tried desperately to gather myself and ignore the blinding pain in my crotch as I stood up to greet Mickie. She let go of Randy and she was about to run over to me when Sam and Alanna pulled up into the driveway and Randy used it as a distraction by saying, "You should say hello to my wife and daughter, Mick!"

"Yeah, sure! See you soon, John," she waved at me before rushing out the door.

Randy rushed over to me as soon as Mickie was gone. We could hear the girls shrieking with glee outside as Randy leaned in and asked me quietly, "You all right?"

"I'll live," I did my best to stand up straight.

Randy frowned at me and replied, "I'm sorry. I really am, and not just for punching you. I shouldn't have reached into your pocket in the first place."

He made it sound like he hadn't really wanted to turn me on. I countered angrily, "What are you trying to do? Lead me on and then blow me off like I'm your prom date? Fuck you!"

Randy reached for me but I shoved him away and made my way to the front door to greet the girls. I was glad to have some distractions after what Randy had just said to me. _Asshole._

* * *

Mickie didn't have much time, but she was never the type to make people feel rushed.

She spent some time talking to Sam about girl stuff, which bored me to tears, but I refused to sit with Randy and watch the game, anymore. When they started talking about menstrual cramps I decided to intervene and steal Mickie away for myself. I was thwarted when Alanna asked to play Princesses in the basement and Mickie was once again out of my reach.

I was beginning to think inviting her over was a stupid, stupid idea.

Then, there she was.

"Let's grab something before I take off," Mickie quipped, rushing up the stairs and beckoning me to follow her.

She ran out the door and got into her car, anxiously chirping the horn while she waited for me. Sam had gone outside to rest on the patio and Alanna was still downstairs playing with her toys. I caught a glimpse of Randy still on the couch and I thought I could bypass him to leave, but he stopped me when he said, "You're making a mistake."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I argued despite knowing exactly what he meant.

He stood up from the couch and turned to face me with his Viper's stare. I knew him well enough to recognize his true inner fury just by looking through his gray colored irises.

"We're just going out to grab a bite to eat," I rephrased what Mickie had said earlier.

Randy scoffed and stated, "We both know that's not how _this_ ends."

I don't even know why I was lying to him. Lying to myself was so much easier.

"I can handle myself. Besides, I'm obsessed with _you _right now. I don't even know if a girl could still turn me on, anymore," I shrugged and turned to leave.

"Don't walk out that door or I'll-" Randy started, but I cut him off when I slammed the front door.

If he wouldn't give into me, I needed to know that someone would.


	7. Chapter 7

7:

Mickie was fun. Mickie was sweet. Mickie was entertaining. Mickie was hot. Mickie was eating a massive burger in the passenger seat while we watched the city lights from a cliff side like a scene out of some peaceful romantic comedy.

_But all I could think about was Randy Orton._

I hated the way we left things. He was so angry with me for going out with Mickie, and I was so angry with him for lecturing me when he was the one who kept pushing me away. I was desperate to feel a connection with someone. _Anyone_. Mickie was willing to do that for me.

Yet the thoughts about Randy continued.

"What's going on, John? You seem...distracted," Mickie brought me out of my own mind.

She gave me a warm smile but I knew I was being completely rude and I had ignored her most of the night. I finally told her with a shrug, "I'm just having a rough time relaxing is all."

"Is this about your divorce?" Mickie asked quietly.

I nodded and replied in an off-hand way, "I probably should've never gotten married."

The words were true, but no less regrettable to say out loud. I closed my eyes and made a long sigh. Mickie leaned in closely and whispered, "What can I do?"

I opened my eyes and looked down at her. She bit her lower lip like she were eager to please, but I knew whatever I asked for would be completely and utterly wrong.

"To hell with it," I said, taking Mickie's lips with mine.

She moaned and pulled me into her. I hit the handle on the seat to lay it back. I was about to top Mickie when my phone suddenly began chiming loudly with the ringtone I saved for calls from Randy.

"Ignore it," I told Mickie, taking the phone out and chucking it on the driver's side floor.

The ringtone kept going for a while before it finally went to voicemail. I groaned with relief and Mickie giggled against my lips. I was reaching for her jean shorts to open them when my phone started chiming with Randy's ringtone again.

I tried to ignore it and continued making out with Mickie. The phone again went to voicemail and I thought this would be the last time.

Then it rang again.

"Just answer it," Mickie pushed me away so I would stop the incessant noise.

I reached for the phone just as it went to voicemail. I considered putting it back down, but I knew Randy would call again. I stepped out of the car so Mickie didn't overhear and answered the phone by shouting, "What the fuck do you want?!"

"Your wife is here," Randy stated.

I was stunned.

He must've handed the phone to Liz because I heard her voice coming through the phone, "John? John, I need to see you right now. I'm at Randy's house and he told me you're with Mickie."

"Why the fuck did he tell you that?" I blurted angrily.

"Just get back here! We need to talk!" Liz countered.

She hung up before I could argue more. My anger came to a boil and I could hardly contain it long enough to get back in the car and explain to Mickie, "We've gotta cut this night short."

"It's okay," she smiled understandingly, "This wasn't a good idea, anyway. I know you, John. You're a loyal man and that means something nowadays."

"Yeah," I replied, but I didn't really feel like a loyal man right now.

* * *

Liz was already out the front door and in my arms when I got to the front lawn. Randy was waiting just past the door frame, his eyes set on me like he was deciding whether he should consider me a cheater or not. I returned Liz's welcoming hug and took her by the hand to lead her into the house. I glared at Randy as we went by and he growled at me, "What's that look for?"

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but Liz interjected with, "John, let's talk about this downstairs."

I looked at her and Liz motioned to the other room, where I could hear cartoons playing on the TV and I assumed Alanna was in there with Sam. I nodded and ignored Randy so I could talk to my wife. I led Liz down to the basement and into the guest room. I was about to close the door when she started in on me, "Randy called me this morning to tell me you were at his place. He called me again while I was on my way here and told me you invited Mickie James to come by! What the hell are you thinking, John?!"

She knew my history with Mickie and I didn't bother to try and hide what was going on. I left the door open and turned around to argue, "I wasn't thinking, alright?! I haven't been able to since you decided to hire a top-notch lawyer to get what you can from me!"

"What I can? Only what I should get!" she yelled.

I came within inches of Liz and shouted back, "This is exactly why I didn't want you here! We scream and we yell and we end up having sex and then it starts all over again! Why didn't you let me vent some of my frustration on Mickie? That way I wouldn't have to think about hating you right now!"

"Don't talk to me like that! You're the one who took off to nowhere and tried to cheat on me!" she shot back.

I shook my head and stated, "I don't even know why I'm trying to talk to you about this. You'd be mad whether I fucked around with Mickie or not!"

The stress brought tears to Liz's eyes. She continued to fight with me, "I don't even know who you are anymore!"

"That's why I'm trying to get a divorce! I don't know you, either!" I argued.

She started pummeling me with her fists. I could've easily restrained her but I just stood there and let her beat on me. A part of me felt I deserved it.

"Why are you such a shithead?! Why do you act like an ass to me all the time, now?! Sometimes I think you're more in love with your best friend Randy than you are with me!" she shouted while she hit me.

I couldn't take it anymore. I took Elizabeth by the arms and shoved her just hard enough to get her away from me. I didn't hurt her, but I thought I heard her whimper and I said, "I'm sorry."

Liz turned toward the doorway and I followed her gaze. Alanna was standing in the frame clutching her pink unicorn blanket, her expression a mix of confusion and fear. She broke out into sobs, believing that she were witnessing a scary and violent act.

"Oh, sweetie, it's alright," Liz rushed over to gather Alanna in her arms.

I tried to reach for her, but Alanna started screaming, "Mooooommmmmyyyyy!"

Liz went out of the room and carried Alanna to the base of the stairs. Sam was already coming down and Randy was right behind her as Alanna continued to wail. Liz handed her to Sam and Sam glared at us both before she stated, "Both of you should know better than to fight in front of a little girl."

"That's why we didn't have kids," I remarked sarcastically.

A terrible expression of shock and sadness glazed over the normally vibrant face of Liz. I felt completely ashamed even as Liz replied softly, "You're right. I'll be on the next flight back to Boston."

Sam turned around and took Alanna back up the stairs without another word. Randy was still standing there but Sam had already said what was on his mind. Liz looked at me and told me simply, "Figure out what you want or don't bother coming home."

She moved quickly past Randy and went out the door. I thought I should follow her, but I was too angry and full of regret to try. I looked at Randy, but he was completely stone faced. I stated boldly, "I shouldn't be here. I'm fucking things up for you and your family. I'll be gone by tomorrow."

I went back into the guest room and slammed the door. I turned off the light and collapsed into bed on my stomach, clutching the pillow under my head and squeezing my eyes shut as I willed myself to go to sleep and forget this whole day.

I heard the door open. I thought it was Liz and I didn't bother to open my eyes. The door closed and I heard the click of the lock on the doorknob. I still thought it could be Liz and I refused to open my eyes. I heard her come around to the other side of me, and then I felt her climb into bed with me.

_No. It wasn't Liz. The weight of the person against the bed was too heavy to be Liz._

"Randy," I whispered as I opened my eyes and turned my head to face him.

I couldn't see him in the dark. He put his hands on my shoulders and moved on top of me. He reached underneath and opened my jeans, then he pulled them down to my knees. I heard him unzipping his own jeans, then I heard him spit into his hand.

"Randy, you don't have to do this-" I started to tell him.

He started pushing his way inside before I could finish. It was strange and kind of painful and not exactly what I expected, but it felt just as good as I had hoped.

Randy grunted and made his first thrust. I could feel the rim of his jeans brushing up against the back of my thighs. The feel of the jeans made my skin tingle and I shuddered involuntarily. Randy took it as a response to him and he made another thrust. I could feel his erection gliding along my prostate and it was unlike any form of pleasure I'd ever experienced.

I moaned and he made another, harder thrust. It burned a little and I made a sound in protest. Randy tried another thrust, this time with less strength, and I moaned again.

It wasn't the perfect first time that I had pictured in my mind. Hell, it wasn't even one of the numerous explicit first times I thought up while I jerked myself off. This was a very real first time; the kind you don't expect and you usually exaggerate about whenever you talk about it to anyone. It was messy and wrong, stupid and ignorant, kind of uncomfortable and happening at the most inappropriate of times.

_Yet I loved every moment of it._

Randy and I came at the same time. It wasn't gloriously long or epically climactic. It was just...good. Very good. For the first time in a long time, I felt true relaxation.

I thought Randy would get up and leave, but he didn't. He just stayed on top of me and I could feel his chest getting bigger and smaller with each deep breath he took. When his breathing slowed, he whispered to me, "Is that what you wanted?"

"No, it was what I _needed_," I answered.


End file.
